The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory
by sleepy hippo
Summary: The Great Clocks turn, powering nations. Al and Matt are inventors working to replace the dark heart of the clocks but make enemies. The trio run an international cargo company. Arthur is part of an elite armada. A renegade troubles the East. AU/Clockpunk
1. The Twin Chambers of the Heart

The Great Clocks turn, powering nations. Alfred and Matthew are Inventors and wish to replace the dark power at the centre of the clocks but meet opposition from the governmental college of scientists. The Bad touch trio runs a cargo company with their friend Elizaveta and Engineer Ludwig shipping between the clocks. Arthur and his family sail the skies as part of an elite armada that aims to find and execute runaways they have been sent to eliminate a threat in the East, a renegade assassin who is tearing his way to the heart of an empire to liberate his family. Clock/Steampunk. Romance. Adventure.

Hello! This is hopefully going to be a multi-chapter AU fic. Human names will be used. This will most likely contain a certain amount of slash and there will be some profanity, especially where Lovino is concerned. Planned Gilbert/Matthew, Antonio/Lovino, Ludwig/Feliciano, America/Undecided, possibly England/France and a few more if I get that far.

**Disclaimer - I do not own Hetalia**

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><p><strong>The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory<strong>

Chapter 1 – The Twin Chambers of the Heart

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><p>Even a corridor away he could hear the creak and rattle of the clockwork's mechanism as it turned laboriously round. He hated visiting the chamber that housed the machine, the dusty oppressed air, the sounds of clockwork mingled with strained breathing, the occasional sharp cry or quiet sob. Still, he was awesome and so could well handle it. His friend Antonio, though, well, he was an entirely different matter. His partner could not even come this close to the room without entering into a state of mental distress so extreme it bordered on an irreversible breakdown. The few times he had forced himself to accompany Gilbert had seen him take weeks to recover from the ordeal, the mental scars never far from the surface or long away from his brooding thoughts.<p>

The weight of the gun against his hip was mildly tempting. He didn't relish the thought but he always wondered if asked the question what their answer would be. He was jerked out of pondering the implications by the sight of a heavy brass door, behind which the sounds of clockwork could be heard louder than ever. He braced himself before putting his shoulder against the slightly heated metal surface and pulling on the large lever handle, allowing the door to swing open. A could of steam rolled lazily out into the hallway before he had the door shut and secured. He skirted the edge of the room, his gaze careful not to stray to the centre. He hoped they wouldn't notice him. _He_ might be awesome but the universe most certainly was not and before he had taken so much as five steps an angry, though tired, voice rang out, catching him mid-step. "You weren't…even going to…say hello, were you?" The angry male demanded, pausing to take deep breaths. "Bastard." Gilbert smiled slightly, it was reassuring that no matter the situation some things did not in fact change.

"Hey I just got here brat, give me a chance!" He shouted out, still not meeting the eyes he could feel looking his way. "Got to talk to the tight ass first."

"Excuse me." A smooth, aristocratic voice interrupted from above. He looked up to find Roderich standing primly beside the brass railings of the walkway that ran around the circular room, a level up. From four points the platform was connected, via bridges far overhead, to a room directly above the central mechanism, looking like it was held up by magic. Maybe it was held up by magic, Gilbert couldn't really find it in him to care and so never bothered to ask. He swaggered towards the nearest ladder, ascending to the platform where Roderich stood, surveying the room below and the many contraptions, working in tandem, that it contained.

"So, awful disgrace of a totally un-awesome not-quite-human being, how are you?" Roderich raised and eyebrow, his expression otherwise unchanged.

"I am as I always am, Gilbert, impatient to get to business so I am not forced to spend any longer than necessary in your company." He headed for the nearest bridge as he said this and Gilbert followed, waiting until they started upon the high, arching structure he slapped Roderich's arse, watching, amused, as the other fought to keep his balance. He lent over his shoulder to whisper into his ear, "I know that's your way of saying you want me." Before straightening once more and cackling madly at the look of distaste that marred Roderich's face. He loved messing with stuck-up Roddy, he always got the reaction he desire and it served to take his mind off the crossing he was making by giving him something else to focus on. He hated the urge to look down, upon them, he'd resist the sight for as long as he possibly could but there was a limit to his selfish desire and before long he would need to look at them unflinchingly. 'You got business for me?" He asked Roderich, in an attempt to derail his thoughts.

"No, of course not. I called you because I wanted to see you." Noting the look of horror that Gilbert was struggling to contain he laughed dryly. "Do relax, Gilbert, when have I ever wanted to see you." It wasn't really a question and Gilbert, relieved, refrained from commenting.

"Just show me the damned cargo, this place is too creepy to be graced for long by the awesome me." With a sardonic smile Roderich nodded entering the suspended office with its horrendous glass floor.

"As you wish."

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><p>Alfred bounced up to him, brandishing a spanner. "Oh God Mattie, I can feel it. We're so frikken close dude."<p>

"Bloody right, you better believe we are." Tony shouted from across the room, before focusing once more on the matter at hand.

"We…really are." Matthew muttered in awe, looking at the ordered chaos of their underground lab. A strong feeling of joy rose up through him, he could feel his toes and fingers twitch and spent a second torn between performing a jig and getting back to work. Alfred had chosen the first option and was wildly springing around the room, still waving the spanner in his left hand. Matthew allowed himself a laugh before cynicism entered his thoughts. He knew they were close. Close to revolutionizing the very fabric of society, and yet he had the most unsettling premonition that things were not going to go well for them. The closer they came to completion, the stronger the feeling became.

He shrugged it off, berating himself for his overly pessimistic outlook and resumed his examination of the cog in his hands. This cog was key to the whole structure; it was his design and his proudest moment. The small smile that played across his features when he looked at it always felt overindulgent but he could never help it - he didn't _try_ very hard. He was used to being overlooked and he knew that when they succeeded it would be Alfred that received the credit for the whole project but he didn't mind so much when he set his mind to the device and produced a result like this.

His tinkering was cut short by the sound of the front door bell reverberating throughout their lair. Alfred stopped dancing and Tony lay down his own work, all three looked towards the door of their secret room. Cogs started to whirr and Alfred let out a loud breath; Matthew found himself following not realizing he had been holding it in the first place. They could hear the rattle and thumps overhead and followed the imagined progress of the correspondence with their narrowed eyes. Alfred bounded towards the mail depository beside the door, spinning the combination with familiar ease to open the flap and remove a cylindrical metal tube with a familiar coat of arms stamped onto the lid.

"Shit, Matthew, it's from them."

"Yeah." Matthew swallowed, he had known the crest the moment he saw it and his former feeling of foreboding came back with enough force to stagger him. He sat on the stool beside his workbench. "What's the motto?" He asked, staring at a wide-eyed Alfred.

"Cum…ahhahah" Alfred's face lit up with laughter, all anxiousness momentarily forgotten.

"Important, Al." He looked at the crest once more, eyebrows knitted together in concentration, lips moving as he contemplated how to pronounce the foreign words.

"Scientia…Caritas. Uh, come science carrots, science carrots come? What's that about?" Matthew wanted to laugh but could feel the sense of panic rising up in him. He was glad he was sitting.

"What's wrong Mattie? You look pale." The speed with which Alfred sobered made Matthew suspect he was just as worried and trying to cover it with put-on idiocy.

"Scientific knowledge applied with compassion."

"That…doesn't sound so bad, right?" Alfred spoke slowly, unsure.

"I think even you can sense something is wrong." Alfred nodded; he'd though as much, "Their motto is misleading Al, ironic really, I wonder if they did it on purpose." Alfred had never had the attention span required to learn other languages but he was second to none when it came to innovation and mechanics. Matthew suspected he was a genius.

"You open it," Alfred did not plead, was he not always saying he was the hero? And yet, he now came very close to it. Matthew took the proffered cylinder. "Tony, get over here!" Alfred shouted, voice shaky but as loud as usual. Tony sauntered over. Even Alfred's robot radiated charisma. Figured.

"Sit down Al, you're making me nervous with your fidgeting."

"You're already nervous!" Alfred exclaimed, indignant but sat down across from his brother nevertheless.

"Don't add to it then." Matthew replied, forcing out a chuckle in the hopes it would alleviate the pressure surrounding them. If anything it made it worse. "Right, here goes. Dear Messrs Jones and Williams, it has come to our attention that you have been working on a new project. We are delighted to hear you are once more entering into the world of research and ask that you donate a moment of your precious time to visit us at our headquarters to register said research and give us an account of how you are progressing. While you are here it is important that you sit your medical as you both have missed your last two appointments. This has been overlooked due to your absence through travel but since you returned a few months prior we ask that you see to any observances that have been neglected in your noble pursuit of knowledge.

We have made a preliminary appointment for this afternoon at Two of the Clock, please be in attendance. We will be scheduling a lab inspection to make certain all your equipment meets the required safety standards as set forth by the regulatory body of Scientist and Engineers and to ascertain your research poses no danger to the general public.

We are glad to hear of your return home and hope to work closely with you in the near future.

College of Governmental Scientists and Engineers."

"Shit, how do they know?" Alfred's voice was bordering on hysteric. "We haven't even been above, Mattie!"

Matthew felt as calm as Alfred sounded but tried to compose himself before he replied, "Al, they must have new technology, we aren't the only people making progress."

Alfred responded to his brother's reasoned tone, "Yeah, we should have done…" He trailed off, removing his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes, "What now? I'm not naïve enough to believe they'll let us go on with this in our own manner."

"I must be much more cynical than you." Matthew barked, amused, "I don't think they'll let this exist full stop."

"Why not? The benefits Mattie! I'd willingly give up all claims to riches and renown if they'd implement this. It would be worth it." Matthew couldn't keep the bitter smile from his face.

"Oh I agree, al, but I've been having these premonitions, bad feelings, rising terror, night time torment's. I think there's more to all this than meets the eye, more to it than just the science."

Alfred replied with a derisive snort, "Listen you yourself, what happened to the Matthew I knew, can you hear yourself? Since when has there been more to anything than science!" _Oh sweet Alfred_, Matthew thought _you truly are a wonder, wondrously idiotic and far too optimistic for anyone's good but I'd never have it different._

"I agree on that point as well Al but I don't think the government do, their motivations are less clear and until we know more we can't put our project in danger." Alfred's grin became anticipatory.

"What you suggesting bro?" Matthew matched him, grin for grin.

"We make sure they don't find it."

Alfred chuckled, "I love me some ninja subversion."

"Well gather ye nunchuk's while ye may for we are going underground." He looked around him and saw Tony roll his eyes ground ward from where he sat, "Well we'll go _deeper _underground."

"When you say 'we' of course, you mean me." Tony intoned from his place next to Alfred.

"Pretty much dude." Alfred laughed, throwing an arm around Tony where he stood and managing to fall off his stool in the process. "What's the time?" Alfred's voice floated up from the floor, slightly pained.

"One of the Clock." Tony replied without so much as a glance at any of the many timepieces scattered throughout the room.

"Shit!"

"Yeah, shit." Matthew echoed, looking thoughtfully around the lab. There were so many precious instruments and tools but there was only so much they could save. "All the pieces of the project must be transported completely unassembled, we'll just have to put it all back together when we are in safe location. I trust you to find appropriate intermediate storage Tony; it's better if we don't know the specifics for the moment. Take all the necessary tools, all of them and anything else you can transport without raising too much suspicion. We can't empty the place or it'll look strange. Al, get some of the old works so it looks like we have been doing _something_ down here, nothing too controversial." He paused for a breath.

"You are being extremely distrusting." Alfred commented, still on the floor but now more comfortably lounging on his back.

"Vigilance now before it's too late." Was all Matthew could find to say, more focused on the tasks ahead that the conversation at hand.

"How's he gonna get away unseen?" Alfred offered up in between putting his finger in his mouth and producing popping sounds, "Look a bit suspicious, a well known friend of ours lugging cases of cogs and instruments around."

"Back passage Al." Matthew ignored Alfred choking on his finger mid-laugh and gestured vaguely to a patch of wall no different from any other.

"Got…it." Alfred gasped out when was breathing once more.

Tony dismantled the unassuming patch of wall, revealing an earthen corridor behind it, as if to reinforce Matthew, "Ship still where we last left it?"

"Exactly." He already had gathered everything that was essential while Alfred and Matthew had conversed. Alfred sprung up from his position on the floor seeing that his friend was making ready his departure and joined him by the passageway.

"Tony," Matthew shouted, before the Robot could move into the earthen passage, "Can you get us a list of all the…eh, power sources?"

"See what I can do, bloody hell enough _to_ do."

"Sorry about this dude." Al shouted, despite his close proximity, "You think Mattie is overdoing it?" Tony looked Matthew in the eyes, holding the gaze for longer than he usual liked to.

"No. I hope to see you safe, soon." There was a heavy silence, everything left unsaid seeming to swarm around them.

"Yeah man, you too!" Alfred sobbed - ending the moment - hugging the overburdened Tony fiercely, ignoring the rivets and strips of metal pressing roughly into his skin.

"Bye." Alfred wrenched himself free and Tony disappeared into the corridor, Al securing the passage and masking it behind him.

He turned back to Matthew, tears sliding down his cheeks, "Our turn."

"Better clean your face then." Matthew quipped, not quite achieving the lighthearted tone he'd been aiming for.

"Why?" Alfred asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

"The tears." Matthew prompted.

"Dude!" Alfred shouted, loud enough to burst all eardrums within a five-mile radius, "Heroes don't cry!"

Matthew smiled and made him an exaggerated bow._ Never change, Al, never change._

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><p>"That us?" Gilbert made a lazy hand gesture between himself and Roderich.<p>

"Until the next time, yes."

"I'll be back?" Gilbert prodded.

"Indeed." He had managed to make it through the meeting without once looking down at the transparent floor, his momentary lapse in concentration at their meeting being over and his collection of the parcel that was to be delivered culminated in him glancing through the glass to the sight below. He recoiled, toppling into Roderich behind him, sending them both crashing to the floor. At least he was looking at the dome ceiling of the strange office and not at _them_. It was somehow worse from above.

"So clumsy." Roderich muttered beneath him, trying to shift Gilbert off. He wasn't having much luck, Gilbert was larger and heavier and used to physical labour, in contrast, playing the piano was about as physical as Roderich got. Gilbert figured it'd be best to catch his breath before getting up and Roderich seemed to sense he wasn't going to be free any time soon. Commenting on the situation was, of course, below him though, so he entered into small talk to pass the time.

"How is Elizaveta?" He radiated indifference but Gilbert could tell he'd wanted to ask him much earlier.

"Fine." He grunted, offering up nothing in addition to this.

"Ludwig?" He pressed on, annoyance seeping into his tone.

"Not great." Was all Gilbert dispensed this time.

"Oh?" Enquired Roderich, trying to play Gilbert at his own game but failing in his quest for information.

"He misses…well." He shifted, uncomfortable, producing a muffled 'oomph' from Roderich.

"He understands though?" Roderich pressed, "Why does he not come?"

"He's our engineer, why _would_ he come?"

"He'd find a reason." Roderich had always had a soft spot for his stoic, sensible younger brother. He'd lived with them when they were all kids. Gilbert wished they could all be children again and he could go around, sword in hand, fighting foes, being a pious and magnificent knight. There was no value in such wishes though. "He does know?" Roderich sounded suspicious. "Gilbert," He raised his voice, always a bad sign - it was tantamount to shouting with Roderich, "Gilbert even for you this is too much." He exclaimed angrily, hitting the stock still Gilbert on the back of the head forcefully. Gilbert could feel his skull reverberate from the blow. Impressive.

"What would I tell him?" He hissed matching Roderich's anger, "The boy you loved more than your own life, who you never got to tell is slowly and agonizingly dying and you can never be with him? Better to let him think he's been slighted, at least then he has a chance to move on with his life."

"And has he moved on?" Roderich sounded skeptical.

"Not yet, it's only been a few months, bloody well give him time!" Roderich fell silent at that and in the hopes of heading off any more unnecessary conversation Gilbert pulled himself up and exited the suspended structure, leaving him on the floor. Roderich did not attempt to follow him.

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><p>He approached the central mechanism, trying to shove all thoughts of his brother's mood out of his mind; he needed to be strong for this. He always dreaded this moment, when he came face to face with them and his sin was laid bare and the guilt corroded his conscience. The guilt of being free when they where not, the guilt of not trying harder to prevent it from happening in the first place, the guilt of hiding it from his brother.<p>

"You return." A surly voice floated up to him from the centre of the clog, the pit in which they lived.

"Where I can see you." Gilbert called back, stopping at the edge of the large mechanism. The thought was always worse than the sight of them and a disembodied voice did not help with that.

"Afraid it's catching?" Lovino muttered, slowly emerging from the pit, he climbed out clumsily and turned back, stretching out his arm to help an even weaker Feliciano up. The brothers made their way over to the edge of the cog; they couldn't go any further. They sat a little away from him, leaning together.

"The bastard hasn't come." Lovino commented, more resigned than angry.

"He's just-"

"Don't make excuses, ass - he wouldn't. I get it, as if I'd want to see him anyway." And yet there was a touch of hurt in the tone.

"Fratello understands." Feliciano spoke for the first time and Gilbert struggled to keep his gaze on the pale, wan face so drained of energy and optimism. "I would not want Ludwig to see me like I am." He leaned his head back against Lovino's shoulder and Gilbert was surprised to see Lovino react by placing a comforting hand on his head.

"He's being killed by a fucking clock." Lovino whispered, watching his brother's face as his eyelids began drooping closed, the exertion proving too much, awareness lost to him.

"Aren't we all?" Gilbert muttered, trying to chuckle and grimacing.

"Oh, _sorry_, I didn't realise your life was so fucking hard. Great time to get all philosophical, you shit, you want to change places?" Gilbert flinched as if struck. He quickly stood, shaking his head.

"Awesome is as awesome does, can't hang around here all day."

Lovino snorted at the comment. "You are the worst visitor ever. Tell your brother to come next time, Feliciano needs something to keep him fighting; he thinks his '_best friend'_ has given up on him." Lovino returned making quotation marks in the air but being careful not to disturb his brother who was now fast asleep.

"He's ill?" Gilbert's voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

"No he's fucking dandy." Gilbert was making a habit of wincing where there two were concerned, he'd have to put a stop to it before it reduced his awesome. "God's below, ill? He's _dying_ Gilbert. It takes much more from him than me; they have a bloody name for it as if it's just some unfortunate pissing side note. You tell your brother, at least let him see the potato munching bastard again before he dies." And there it was, what they all dreaded. The gravity of Lovino's words were confirmed by his use of Gilbert's name, it was the first time he had ever addressed him by his given name instead of his Lovino given curse.

"I'll tell Antonio you were asking for him."

"Fucking forget about Antonio, you tell Ludwig he needs to come here." Lovino insisted. Gilbert nodded because what else could he do? He wasn't a big enough bastard to crush the hope from a brother watching his twin pass into death. Best to let him hope. With a last wave he turned on his heel and walked from the room the sound of creaking cogs and Feliciano's tortured breaths following him.

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><p>This is my new (hopefully) multi-chapter, I have no idea whether there is much interest in this kind of thing but I thought it'd post this and see. I think it could work as a one-shot but just barely; I do have a larger story arc planned out for it though so I'm hoping to write more for it. Let me know what you think, reviews and criticisms greatly appreciated.<p>

**Edit - **Should I change the title? It was preliminarily named this after Dali's painting but it seems a bit of a mouthful.


	2. The Deconstructed Gears of Progress

Thank you so much for all the reviews for chapter one, I was really unsure if this kind of story would interest anybody. So a big thank you to **RosarioImpale, SisterFriend, , crackberries** and everyone who favourited, alerted and read!

I am so sorry this has taken so long. I was away on holiday with no Internet and then when I got back I had to start my summer job earlier than I was supposed to. I wrote this chapter on one of my days off very late at night and crashed but when I read it in the morning I realized how tired I must have been and had to re-write most of it since it made absolutely no sense.

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><p><strong>The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory<strong>

**Chapter 2 – The Deconstructed Gears of Progress**

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><p>Blood dripped between his long, pale fingers and he laughed. It was a childlike sound, light and innocent. The rooms other living occupant shuddered and tried to recall why he was currently following in the large man's wake, a path of death and destruction. There was no point in saying anything to him; he'd just look down with confused, large eyes, smiling serenely before turning around to march through seas of imagined blood. Still, they had a common cause and as strange as it seemed to him, he trusted the man in this matter. And really, what other choice did he have, who else would help? There was no one, except one large madman, and that would have to be enough. He straightened, dark eyes dragging themselves away from the pool of blood and the prone body to the shadowed doorway<p>

"Time to leave, before we are noticed." The other man followed suit, standing up, rubbing bloody hands on a threadbare, red-stained scarf.

"Da." They exited the room, side by side.

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><p>Alfred shuffled, radiating nervous energy as they waited to be called into the office of Dr. Bell.<p>

"Will you stop bouncing your leg?" Matthew hissed, not taking his eyes of the rapidly springing foot. "You're making me nervous as hell."

"I can't help it Mattie!" Alfred wailed, his foot ceasing to move as his fingers started tapping nosily against the side of the chair.

"Well that's not more annoying, is it?" Alfred shot him a dark look, pointedly crossing his arms and legs. The scientist walked out and frowned at the strange sight of a tangled up Alfred and Matthew couldn't help but laugh, breaking the strained tension around his brother who answered with a grin and stood up with his legs and arms still crossed, hopping towards the indicated office. Matthew was relieved to see Alfred back to his usual self but his relief was short lived as, sitting himself down in the office, his brother started to mimic every gesture the man made, Matthew swatted his hands in rising panic, praying that the scientist would not look up and see the show in front of him. When this proved ineffective he grabbed Alfred's hands and holding them in a vice like grip smiled serenely at the concerned looking scientist in front of them.

"So I understand you have recently returned, where exactly have you been?"

"Japan." Alfred barked at the same time Matthew answered, 'Germany" With practiced ease. Matthew always fell back on Germany for reasons wholly unknown to himself. _Oh, shit, Japan! We agreed on Japan._

"Which is it?" Dr. Bell laughed but neither brother missed the cold suspicion evident in his eyes.

"Both, truthfully." Alfred shrugged, taking control like he usually did when they were in company, "We traveled around Europe and Asia mainly, and we made a quick visit to South America before returning to Canada. We didn't stay long in Canada, just long enough to collect a couple of items for our work before coming back here."

"Mmmmhhh." The doctor hummed, steepling his fingers, "And how long have you been home?" Matthew's heartbeat, which had only just calmed down since their slip-up started beating wildly again, how much did they know about their movements?

Alfred shrugged easily, "A few weeks," He uncertainly replied, glancing at Matthew as if for confirmation. Matthew nodded thoughtfully not trusting himself enough to not put his foot in it. "Keeping track of time is not our strong point," He continued, "We get too absorbed in work, I'm sure you understand that." Matthew had never been so grateful for Alfred's easy grace.

The scientist hummed another laugh. "Certainly, Mr. Jones I understand completely." There was an edge to his voice, he sounded too happy.

"And what are you working on currently that so absorbs your attention, or should I address this one to Dr. Williams?"

Matthew visibly jumped, he cleared his throat, "S-sorry I was miles away, eh, we are," He wracked his brains trying to remember what project Alfred had set out, "We were working on, are currently looking into the possibility of building compact, functioning solo-wings, fuelled by sun as opposed to steam, all the steam prototypes of such machines have, as you know, been too heavy and heated to too great a level for functionality. Well I say we but that is more Alfred's project than mine. I am currently trying to build a teleportation vestibule but have so far only managed to look into some of the scientific principles behind such a device."

"And?" Dr Bell asked, worry seeping into his voice, eyes darting between them, trying to gauge any indication of their progress. They really did think they where that large a threat? It was much worse than Matthew had suspected.

"And nothing. I am starting to believe that it may be an impossibility."

"It is. Told you so." Alfred chimed in. Dr Bell relaxed. "My project is going a lot better, they don't actually function yet but soon, soon." He didn't look particularly interested in Alfred's abandoned project though.

"Thank you both for your time, if you would please follow me next door for your physicals, I'll need you to fill out some documentation as to your recent movements and we need to go over standard procedure, I think." He eyed them both pointedly, "Since you seem to think you are both exempted from the set guidelines."

"Guide." Alfred stressed, "Not really required, is it?"

"Strongly recommended, Mr. Jones." He did not bother to hide his disapproval. "Come, come, boys, it is good to have you back. Let us proceed."

He ushered them back into the corridor and turning down the hall lead them to a door at the furthermost end. The door was opened to reveal a brightly lit room full of delicate looking brass instruments, all glinting malevolently.

The man standing across the cavernous room sent chills of fear racing up Matthew's spine and he struggled not to shiver. He was tall, well built and tanned, giving him a healthy, athletic look. He lounged against a slate operating table and dark eyes glinted out from a bone white mask that covered the uppermost part of his face. His white doctor's coat had a hood that was lifted over his head, casting the rest of his face in shadows.

"I'll leave you two with the good doctor." Dr Bell turned to the towering presence in the room, "Be thorough with these two, they have not been examined in a while." He retreated, closing the door behind him with a loud snap.

"Well boys," The unnamed doctor enunciated, picking up an excessively large scalpel, "Where shall we begin?"

* * *

><p>Special Captain Arthur Kirkland pulled a telescope from the pocket of his coat, looking through the eyepiece at the fast approaching city below from the prow of the S.S. Herne. A quick glance behind assured him that his fleet sailed in a tightly ordered formation, there was no room for slovenly behaviour on his watch.<p>

As the ship dipped lower, exiting the cloudbank they had been sailing through, London appeared on the horizon, obscured by the ever-present fog that shrouded the city in most weathers. Arthur let out a sigh of contentment. Home. He hadn't been home in months; his fleet had been too busy chasing down the leaders of a newly formed group of rebel scientists, of all things. They had found two of the perpetrators and were confident the faction would soon dissolve, as the two they had caught seemed to be its foremost ringleaders. There was one other member of concern on the list that was still at large but with no co-conspirators and no headquarters what could he do exactly? Yes, they need not worry too much about the Non-Conformist League of Socialist Innovators any longer. A threat had been eliminated.

And now, London beckoned. He had holidays due and he fully planned on taking them. He gazed once more through the eyepiece at the city, as it grew larger with every passing second. He was interrupted from his silent vigil by a small speck that was getting closer, flying straight at him and resolving into something recognizable. He groaned, a feeling of foreboding settling on his shoulders, bowing them.

The small clockwork bird was made of brass, all delicate clogs and whirring wheels, it fluttered at eye height, the small beak opening to trill its message in a metallic sounding voice. "Please come at once to the office, your precense is required at once for a mission of utmost urgency." He let out a deep sigh, turning to signal the armada to fly on before shouting orders at his own crew telling them to change course and head for the Armada's administrative headquarters.

* * *

><p>He thundered into his own office, throwing the door that was already ajar fully open, grunting in satisfaction as it thumped loudly against the outer wall, chipping the dark paint on the corridor wall. His brother and Chief Engineer of the S.S. Herne and all the ships under its command, was lounging at the desk, mud caked feet resting on piles of accumulated paperwork, haphazardly swinging back on his chair. Arthur hurled a cylinder at his head, hitting him share between the eyes and watching with morbid curiosity as his brothers self-satisfied expression smoothed and his eyes crossed, he toppled slowly, his taller, broader frame crashing heavily into the ground, head loudly cracking against the dark hardwood floor. "Fuck." He breathed out, groaning in pain.<p>

"Get out of my bloody chair." Arthur replied irritably, leaning over the desk to look down on the older male. It was hard to tell if he had cracked his bothers skull what with his hair being that ludicrous shade red. Donald picked up the heavy brass message cylinder that had so ungraciously been hurled at him, unscrewing the lid and scanning the thick parchment within. He replaced it and sat up, whistling. "Wouldn't want to be you." He spoke, wincing with each word as pain lanced through his skull, "Not that I ever would right enough." He amended, glaring. "Your business if you want to disable the best engineer you've got I'm sure."

"There are other engineers," Arthur murmured but with a lack of conviction, his brother would be irreplaceable, truth be told, _not _that he'd ever tell him that.

"Aye, there are at that and you can find one insane enough to want to work with you because I am going home, I'm not getting involved in this fresh hell. I'm taking the first carrier all the way North." Arthur snorted.

"Like hell you are, if I am stuck doing this so are you. We leave for North America in the morning, we will be fully briefed on arrival. They'll most likely provide us with time weapons, I see no other reason why we must travel so far just to have to head in a completely opposite direction. Anyway, don't be ridiculous, if you went all the way north you'd end up at the pole."

"Better there than where we're going" Donald muttered darkly under his breath. Arthur had picked up the 'we' that meant his brothers resignation to the situation. "Time weapons, really?" Donald sounded horrified at the very idea, "You heard what they say about them?" Arthur nodded reluctantly, powered by blood and bone - very literally.

"I'm sure that is all nonsense, Scotty." He dismissed.

Donald shook his head emphatically, "No, take it from me it is the only possibly way to power such a weapon. It's like the great clocks, only on a much-reduced scale. Bad enough though." Arthur cleared his throat pointedly, his older brother was in his employ and he kept a very close eye on him, he had a dangerous habit of letting his opinions be known to anyone that dared to listen and his opinions were, without exception, bordering on revolutionary. He would have washed his hands of him long ago if it wasn't for…well it was better not to dwell on such things, this was especially true since his long held conviction of their mutual loathing was not so convincing as it had once been. It often felt like his sense of duty to country and duty to family threatened to tear him apart. He swiped a hand across his eyes; if he was thinking like this he was a good way beyond tired.

"Kathleen?" Donald's usually boisterous voice was soft and quiet, a deep bass rumbling through the stillness that had fallen over the office.

"Transferred. She will be joining us."

"Thank you." He sounded like he meant it.

"Don't. Fionn and Bryn will be joining us as well." Donald's voice boomed, back to its usual volume, "Magic. The whole gang, all we need now-"

"Do not mention those two." He snapped, his body held in rigid warning.

"Who, Francis, Gilbert and Antonio?" Arthur relaxed his pose, leaning into the leather padding of the chair.

"Message." He commanded, holding out a hand. Scotty threw it easily to him and watched as his brother left the room in a worse mood than when he had entered it.

"Those two eh? Been a long time. I hope you're doing well you sneaky little bastards." He chucked, the low sound echoing around the room. Of course they were doing well, they always were.

* * *

><p>"We're perfectly healthy!" Alfred exclaimed, voice high and shrill as he eyed the scalpel with undisguised horror. Matthew knew his face was not much better, considering his markedly cynical outlook it was probably a lot worse. They should have run while they still had the chance.<p>

"Gods, the look on your faces right now!" The doctor boomed out, dropping the scalpel back onto the slab, lowering his hood and removing his mask.

Alfred gaped, "Dude! Not. Cool."

"Sadiq?" Matthew questioned faintly, the horror that had gripped him leaving him sluggish, he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"The one and only. You seriously looked like you where about to shit yourselves."

"You know, I think I might have." Matthew admitted, relief finally catching up with him. "What brings you here?"

"Well, you and Alfred actually but before I get into that does an old friend not deserve a proper greeting?" Alfred, in his usual manner, launched himself, tackling the older man and causing him to crash heavily into the slab upon which he had been lounging. "Suppose I asked for that." He wheezed, ruffling Matthew's hair and earning a glare in the process. "I better explain everything, we don't have long, the spy birds are away for a short while. They obviously thought I was going to mildly torture you."

"And are you?" Matthew quipped while Alfred simultaneously asked "Mildly?" head cocked to one side.

"Yeah light torture, no fingernail pulling, just slightly distracting; painful injections and stitches, mechanical maggots, anal probes and the like."

"Wonder where they got that idea from." Matthew sarcastically added, rolling his eyes at Alfred's unknowing shrug.

"Might have hinted at it being likely. Just remember to limp when you leave and look suitably tortured."

"Really though Sadiq, why are you here?" Alfred voice was quiet, tense, "Last time we saw-"

"Before I get to why I'm here I need to tell you a few things." Alfred and Matthew both nodded for him to continue and the three of them settled on the cold floor. "Just after you left Japan I made up my mind, I was going to transfer there, start a new practice, try to have a little more independence from the system. I applied but I was told it was not presently possible, they suggested I became a locum, or the resident doctor on a fleet. I found a job with an international cargo company operating out of Tokyo. Kiku helped me, he had links with them, one of the smaller ships frequently picked up materials for him from all over, you know Kiku." Sadiq paused to clear his throat, "Anyway, I settled I was to be resident for three months, then I would have two months on land. I agreed, it paid well and a few residencies would likely be enough to be awarded a permanent license to work out of Japan. Everything was working out well, I spent my time on land with Kiku and then I was off for another two months." Again he paused and Matthew felt a familiar feeling of dread creep up his spine.

"When I went back they where all gone. All of them. Kiku, Yao. All his brothers and sisters. No trace."

"Kiku?" It came out as a strangled sob and Matthew placed a reassuring hand on his brother's back.

"I've contacted everyone I know that has the slightest connection with them in Japan but nobody knows where they've gone so I've had to expand my search. I thought he might have sent word to you." Sadiq looked desperately at Alfred but there was little evidence of hope in his eyes.

"No, nothing. If he was going into hiding he would have told me!" Alfred started fidgeting again, pulling insistently on his collar as if it was strangling him.

"Why would he need to go into hiding Alfred, why would he even suspect such an outcome?"

"He was working on something, like us, but he thought it was dangerous, wouldn't tell me what it was but he'd sometimes ask for my help with specific problems. Sometimes he'd ask Matthew where he could find particular theories referenced. Always seemed to be something obscure, hard to understand any greater significance behind it." Alfred still sounded upset but his mind, now focused on work, was more ordered.

"Oh, God, what was he doing? Why didn't he _tell me_?"

"He likely realized that telling you would put you in some kind of danger, or maybe he thought you'd try and talk him out of whatever it was he was doing." Matthew mused, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Things just kept getting more dangerous and less clear. He had a feeling he knew where Alfred would want them to be going next.

"I would have at that." Sadiq admitted.

"What do you plan on doing?" Matthew asked, while watching Alfred who seemed to have stopped paying attention to the conversation.

"Finding him, of course. There are a couple more people to seek out but I needed to see if you knew anything first and," He hesitated, scratching under his eye where the mask had been, "I'm being followed. That's why I had this on." He held up the mask.

"Shit,"

Alfred seemed to come out of whatever trance he had been in, "Did you get them to come for us?" Sadiq shook his head, "No but I had access to certain files in the last place I worked as a locum, saw that they planned on calling you in, knew you'd been home for a couple of months and that you had missed medicals. They had this date marked down so I rushed here and made sure the regular doctor was…feeling indisposed."

"All sounds too neat Alfred," Alfred nodded his agreement, ruffling his hair in agitation.

"Especially if you are being followed."

"I know but still I had to talk to you, even if it meant getting myself caught in a trap. He wouldn't give up if something had happened to me."

"It's fine dude, we'll exit, mildly tortured so as not to immediately rouse suspicion and you can find the back way out. If they are already onto you, you've nothing to lose. Get as far away as you can and as handy as it is stop trying to work in governmental facilities. Find another way to access information."

"I agree with Alfred," Matthew urged, "Game's up, just get your head down."

"Before you go, Sadiq, there was something he mentioned that might be helpful, he didn't go into details or give me any names but he had joined some kind of group. A group of likeminded inventors was all he'd say though. That's all I got for now." Matthew refrained from gaping at his brother; he'd never divulged _that _before.

A horrendous thought struck Matthew and he flapped his arms wildly at the other two. They seemed to understand and without saying anything Sadiq got up, securing his mask and hood before embracing both brothers and making his silent goodbyes. He left without another word and after a couple of tense minutes during which no one suddenly burst into the room or came looking for them, the brothers breathed normally once again.

"Not someone official after all." Alfred commented.

"Not here." Was all Matthew offered and grunting at his lack of answer Alfred led the way out of the doctors room, limping subtly.

* * *

><p>She watched the sun as it set, a bloody smear on the horizon, and smiled. She felt…alive, free. She missed her brother, he believed her to be dead, she supposed. He might be dead himself, for all she knew. She had believed herself to be dead; she almost had been, crushed beneath bodies in some infernal pit. Now she was being hunted. She stood motionless at the cliff edge her back to her pursuers. Darkness fell as the slow hours passed and yet through it all she stood. Eventually, as the sun once more made its ascent, casting a soft glow over the sea, she heard the sound of pursuit. Drones, two men to each, seemed to fill the air, she watched them wing their way closer, before alighting not far from where she stood. There must have been at least forty pursuers, maybe more. She turned, small glass vials tinkling as her hair swayed with the movement. The first of the men approached; she removed a case from her back, the click cutting through the sound of heavy feet on grass. She worked quickly, surely, assembling a large weapon. When she looked up the first group where close. She screwed the assembled weapon onto a tripod, stepping away from it altogether and removing, this time from her belt, a thin, sharp wire. The men eyed the contraption warily and raised their guns to point at her. They fired.<p>

She dodged the torrent of standard issue mental bullets, with each evasion moving closer to them. The garrote found it's first victim, a tall, lanky male, busy reloading. His head came clean off and she tumbled gracefully, rolling along the grass to spring up beside another victim, the bullet of his comrade did for him, the bullet that had been meant for her head, she kicked out as she felt someone approach, he grabbed hold of her leg and she twisted round sending a flying kick to his head. The kick was not what killed him, the sharpened steel edge of her shoe did. She landed on one palm, flipping herself up, and knifing a woman in the throat with a spring loaded stiletto.

She knew the blow was coming from her other side and could do nothing to prevent it mid-spin, she shielded her head but felt as he barreled into her side, toppling them both. Her hand sprung free in time to smash, palm first, into the centre of his forehead with enough force to shatter the skull. She felt it cave in beneath the power of her hand. Her head impacted against the soil, her hesitation earning her several hits. She could feel the burning cold of metal biting through skin and bone in at least one location. A click was audible above the repeated firing of guns. Suddenly it was raining blood, and she rolled onto her stomach, laughing, between gasps, into the grass as all about her people separated into clouds of red mist.

Soft steps approached. "Five, a little weak I thought. You should never have been taken down by that clumsy oaf." He gestured to one of the few remaining intact bodies, sprawled beside her. "Still, not bad."

"I'd like to see you do better." She knew her voice sounded sulky, she had managed six last time. He laughed pleasantly, the sound light and mocking.

"Look around dearest, I already have."

"Real fighting," She insisted, clenching her teeth as another wave of pain cut broke over her.

"Get them before they get you, that is real fighting. Come on, we better go in case they had back-up, we need to lay low until we actually have a plan to go ahead with, this is all very diverting but it's hardly helping us achieve our goal." She had to agree with this.

"We'll not get much blood since you've spread it so far and wide." She admonished, still moody sounding.

"We don't need it, it's a wonder you can stand with all the vials you're carrying. Your scalp must ache." She shook her head, the vials of blood once more tinkling merrily with the movement.

"Disassemble the gun." He moved off and she picked herself up gingerly, still bent over in pain. The sun had not moved much further since she had last watched it. "Time is wasting."

"I wouldn't worry about it." He shouted from his position, a few paces behind, "We have enough of that as well." She turned to face him, the sun like a halo behind his head as he worked, "Well," He amended, "We will never have enough of it, but," And here his voice took on a whimsical quality, "There is time enough to shake the world." And he laughed. She wondered at the change this ongoing trauma had wrought in them both but shrugging it off, she smiled.

* * *

><p>Antonio immediately accosted Gilbert as he boarded the ship, cargo tucked safely in his inner coat pocket.<p>

"How is he?" He whispered urgently, face pale.

"Not good, fairing better than his brother though." Gilbert supplied, trying to move away from the frantic Spaniard who looked less and less like himself the longer the whole ordeal dragged on. Gilbert had never been very good at lying and he'd be damned if Antonio would get anything out of him that he didn't want him to.

"Stop." He hissed severely, clutching Gilbert's arm in a vice like grip, "Tell. Me."

"Feliciano is dying as we speak and Romano has ailed, as expected but is much stronger than his brother. Once Feliciano is…off hire, I don't think he'll have long though. Happy now?"

"Of course I'm not bloody happy! We need to do something, there must be some way to save them!"

"That is insubordination. Quit talking like that before you get us all in major trouble. This is how the world works, Toni, you've known it all along. We all pay a price. Time you dealt with it."

"You've never been in love Gilbert if you can be as cold as that." Gilbert turned and glanced towards the prow, voice thoughtful.

"I've been in love. I'm just a realist, unlike some." Antonio followed his gaze to find Elizaveta who was looking off in the direction Gilbert had come from.

"Oh come on Gilbert you never loved her! You where infatuated at the most and it had more to do with your insane need to compete with Roddy at every god given opportunity. You tried to sleep with me when I went out with him!" Gilbert tried once more to move off but Antonio would not let go of his arm.

"Get off Toni!"

"What are you not telling me?" His grip tightened, Gilbert could feel bruises forming, marring the pale skin beneath his thick flying coat.

"He wants West to visit," He hissed, throwing a paranoid look around the deck. Antonio's grip slackened.

"That bad? You have to tell him." His voice took on that infuriatingly demanding tone. He'd never let it go now.

"Don't you dare, you know what he'd do! He has no rational reactions when it comes to _him_, so fucking drop it Toni." Antonio just glared at him, saying nothing. He'd probably not say anything, he was well aware of the risks. And yet, there was something in his stance and look, some small change and Gilbert feared that Antonio had reached the end of his own rational reactions in the face of Lovinio's suffering. Mein Gott, they had to leave, fast, before Antonio did something more deranged than usual.

"EVERYONE PRESENT?" Gilbert bellowed, his voice carrying to the far end of the ship and stunning Antonio who still stood close beside him.

"AYE AYE CAP'N!" Elizaveta shouted back, saluting and winking at him.

"FULL STEAM AHEAD. UPWARDS AND ONWARDS CREW." The background hum of the ship increased and two wings stretched out laboriously. Steam billowed from the tall funnels behind him. "WE GO BY THE NARRORW STRAIGHTS OVER THE MID ATLANTIC, NORTH NORTH WEST." Gilbert was satisfied to hear Antonio groan, any thought of insurrection forgotten the moment the narrow straights has been mentioned. "North America, here we come." He lamented, wondering off, away from Gilbert and his shredded conscience.

* * *

><p>"Well that wasn't <em>so<em> bad, was it?" Alfred commented after they had completed the paperwork they should have done months before and exited the college.

"Yes it really was so bad, let's just get home." They walked the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each separately wondering where exactly they went from here, neither daring to allude to Sadiq's word's this close to the college.

They entered the house and made their way towards the lab to get ready for the scheduled inspection.

Alfred and Matthew returned home to find a man waiting for them. Alfred let out a heartbroken sob, thick with phlegm and disbelief; Matthew stood stock still hardly daring to move. The man winked at them, sly smile gracing his long, angular face. He sat atop Alfred's workbench, the broken, scattered remains of machinery surrounding him. Carnage. No single instrument or project left untouched. The grinning man had obviously been throwing them carelessly across the room and one had smashed the clock that hung above the door. It had been Alfred's pride, a small scale, symbolic representation of what they hoped to achieve, built after they had separated from their guardian.

The stranger wore no insignia, had no badge on display, no governmental crest and no uniform. He was dressed in dark colours, a long flaring overcoat that reached to his knees, coarse woolen leggings and a wide brass studded belt. His chest was armoured in a dull, unreflective metal, his hands wrapped in dark grey cloth. He held a gun. Alfred had regained his composure, his face chalk white with fear but a resolute set to his jaw told Matthew that he would die rather than admit to it – Alfred had never been a coward and neither had he, he scrutinized the stranger, his gaze defiant.

"Why are you here?" It was like a roar and Matthew could see the metaphorical feathers fan out behind his brother in a show of masculinity. The man was no longer smiling, he looked almost regretful, "I'm here for you." He replied softly, gentle voice a sharp contrast to his hawkish features. He still aimed the gun in their direction for all his sympathy.

"Who?" Matthew asked, gesturing between the two of them.

"Both" Was all the reply he received, the gun momentarily swinging to point at him as the man attempted to focus on his face.

"Why? On whose authority?" Alfred demanded angrily, all trace of fear replaced by rising anger. Matthew knew why without hearing the answer, "You are called upon for international duty, please come quietly." Matthew had expected as much but at hearing it said out loud his blood turned to ice. The stranger hopped off the counter, revealing himself to be a tall, thin man of middle age and Matthew hearing Alfred's distant screams and a deafening rush in his own ears, reached behind his back and pulling out a small, dark gun fired as a simultaneous shot rang out from the stranger.

* * *

><p>Donald – Scotland<p>

Bryn - Wales

Fionn – N. Ireland

Kathleen - Ireland

I'll try to get the next chapter out more quickly. Some of the people introduced and alluded to here are ridiculously obvious but there are a couple that are supposed to be more mysterious.

Reviews and criticism appreciated. Please point out if I have made any glaring mistakes and I'll sort them, I should really be sleeping right now but I am determined to get this up before my next work block.


	3. The Future, Brother, Is Not For Us

Sorry for the delay, work is getting me down at the moment! Thanks to** Readers-Section** and **SisterFriend** for their lovely reviews and to everyone who read/favourited and alerted.

God I kind of hate this chapter, more will be going on in the next one, promise! If I left it any longer to post though I'd be dying of old age. I feel like it is taking a while to get there but I don't want to rush it just for the sake of having people collide faster.

Warnings – Some profanity

Disclaimer - Own it I do not

* * *

><p><strong>The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory<strong>

**Chapter 3 – The Future, Brother, Is Not For Us**

* * *

><p>Feliciano could feel consciousness return. He felt like he was rising out of a deep, fevered darkness but knew when he cracked open dull eyes he would rather he remained in his semi-fevered dream state. Waking was a painful experience, waking in the pit to catch his brother staring at him a mix of anger and pain on his face was more than he could cope with. Thankfully, when he lifted heavy lids, Lovino had his back turned to him.<p>

The pit was wide and deep and yet far too small for two grown men, the floor vibrated, cogs and springs and pistons working below the giant clock face sending shivers throughout their bones. No wonder his dreams felt fevered. The real horror of the pit was the sides, there uncovered and spinning at dizzying speeds sharp edged cogs turned. More than one of their kind had lost limbs by venturing too close in their sleep, more than one, driven mad with confinement and the slow leeching of their life force, had thrown themselves at it. The cogs where moving slowly at the moment, but that wouldn't last long and when they spun it would feel like someone was trying to pull his organs out through his skin.

He lay unmoving, tracing the line of his brother's back, counting the individual vertebrae that could be seen through the thin fabric of his tunic. He let out a loud sigh and managed a weak chuckle when Lovino jumped and scrambled round to face him, looking irate.

"How many times? Don't fucking do that! You want me stumble into the cogs? 'Cause I swear that's what's going to happen Fratello." Feliciano struggled to push himself up, feeling too weak to support his own weight, he felt an arm slip round his back and hoist him upwards with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You wouldn't take away my only amusement, would you?" Lovino huffed but said nothing to this. "What were you thinking about fratello? You seemed absorbed." Lovino tugged roughly on his curl, scowl deepening.

"That old idiot."

"Grandpa?"

"Who else?" Lovino snorted, tugging again on his hair – Feliciano noticed it was becoming a habit of his when he was annoyed or confused, which was, Feliciano supposed, the majority of the time.

"What about grandpa?" He asked, voice quiet. Feliciano had been extremely close to his grandfather, he had come home one day, covered in bruises and cuts and not long after had failed to return home at all. He'd left them a letter explaining that he had to go into hiding, that he was being hunted. He told them they wouldn't be safe if they were with him. He'd left them money and instructions and they had split up; Lovino had been instructed to go and stay with Antonio, a family friend, a gentle and caring person that could put up with his mood swings their grandfather had joked in his farewell. Feliciano had been sent to stay with their cousin Francis but Francis had been away so much on cargo runs that he had left Feliciano in the almost permanent care of Roderich, refusing to take the young man, dismissing it as too dangerous. Lovino when he heard told Feliciano it had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with Francis being too busy with _other_ activities. Antonio sometimes took Lovino with him and other times left him in the care of Alice, who Lovino, much to Antonio's dismay, looked up to and greatly respected.

Lovino hadn't answered him and Feliciano leaned into him slightly to prompt him but finding it preferable to holding himself up stayed propped against his brother's side.

"Che! Gerroff." He muttered half-heartedly before patting his head absentmindedly. "You ever wondered why he split us up?"

"No, not really." Feliciano mumbled, he could practically _feel _Romano roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Bit strange really, why not put us both with Antonio?"

"He probably thought it would be too much of a burden on him, especially with his job taking him off so much."

"No, he left us with people that didn't make sense in the first place, Antonio said he offered to look after both of us, he wanted to. Yet he put you with Francis."

"So we could keep in touch fratello, I do not understand what is so strange." Lovino frowned down at him, concern registering in his eye's as Feliciano felt his own grow heavy. The cogs would start spinning soon.

"Are they?"

"Si, fratello, they are." Lovino shuddered and seemed for a second to hold him more firmly but the pressure faded as quickly as it had appeared, Feliciano thought he was imagining things, maybe he was going insane.

"Look think on this fratello, while you sleep, maybe you will remember something since the two of you were so close. He put us with two people that could communicate and worked together but who lived in separate countries. He knew they'd be away often, he knew we'd end up being looked after for long periods by other people."

"It makes sense Lovino, I really don't see wha- " Lovino lowered him to the ground, cutting him off. He lay beside him, face to face like when they had been children.

"He knew we wouldn't be living with them, he thought we would be _escaping_ with them." Feliciano couldn't reply to this thought, his eyes having slid closed, the weight of his body overwhelming him. He dragged his eyes partially open to see Lovino, on his back, staring up at the office Roderich currently occupied. His eyes slid shut once more as cogs started to pick up speed and the frequency of the pits vibrations increased.

* * *

><p>The strange man's shot missed Alfred by a hair's breadth, his brother had turned to look at Matthew and avoided the stream of time aimed at his head, intended to stun him. The man had not seen Matthew pull his own weapon out but his aim had been true<p>

and the stranger lay sprawled on the floor of their lab, his body resting atop the littered remains of broken machinery.

Alfred openly gaped at Matthew, his gaze switching between his brother and the man on the floor several times.

"Speechless, Al?" Matthew asked but could not prevent his voice from shaking. The gun dropped from slack fingers, clattering against the ground.

"You had a _gun_ bro? Wha… you told me you were against them!" Matthew's eyes flickered to the prone form on the floor and he raised his brows in Alfred's direction.

"No, I said I was against _you_ having them. Is that really your main concern right now?" He sank to the floor, uncontrollable shaking taking over his whole body. "It wasn't even a proper gun, more like a-a crossbow."

"Some crossbow then. Why did you even have it Mattie? If they'd found it at the college we'd have been fucked, right?" Alfred didn't seem overly upset at the possibility though and Matthew felt himself calm down, he probably though it was 'heroic' or 'badass' or something along those lines. Only moments before he had been screaming in terror and now he was serenely looking down at the gun, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I had a bad feeling, I told you that. I thought it might be needed." Alfred nodded thoughtfully; not really taking in what Matthew was saying, his attention on the man once more. He approached the form gingerly.

"Where's all the, like… blood and stuff? You did shoot him, right?" He poked at the man with the tip of his boot, retracting it quickly as if fearing it would be suddenly grasped.

"Like I said, more like a crossbow; I didn't shoot him with a bullet." Alfred crouched down beside the man; looking intently for any sign of a wound, pink tongue poking between his teeth in concentration.

"What did you shoot him with?" He asked, poking more bravely at the man's cheek and looking back at Matthew.

"A needle."

"A needle!" Alfred exclaimed in horror, backing away, despite all evidence that suggested the man was indeed unconscious. Matthew rolled his eyes, a familiar gesture.

"Poisoned of course." Alfred approached the man again, his moment of fear all but forgotten. If Matthew were to mention it no doubt he would act indignantly and accuse him of lying, he'd _believe_ it too.

"What with?"

"Some kind of neurotoxin, Tony got it for us a while back."

"Huh, he did? Is he dead?"

"How the hell should I know? I'm a scientist for gods sake, not a doctor!"

"Are too."

"Not a _physician_ then." Alfred lowered his ear to the man's chest, humming happily.

"His heart is beating very slooooowly. His skin is really hot though." He prodded the mans cheek once more, "and dry."

"I think," Matthew ventured, "he'll be out for at least a day. I was quite liberal with the dosage, he might have slipped into a coma if his heart is that slow." Alfred made his way back over to where Matthew sat, kicking bits of machinery from his path, falling haphazardly beside him.

"We are in a lot of trouble." He gazed at Matthew, smile strained, "totally fucked."

"Very succinctly put." Matthew agreed, offering a weak smile.

"Succ- what? Never mind," He added quickly seeing Matthew about to explain, "We need a plan, a heroes plan. Can't be caught if Kiku is in trouble, right?"

"Actually I think we'll need a miracle, they'll be expecting this guy to come back soon." Alfred gazed thoughtfully at the not-quite-dead man.

"Well, first bro, lets get rid of him." He jerked his thumb roughly at the man.

"You want to kill him?" Matthew asked, shocked.

"Nah just put him somewhere out of the way – he's ruining the view." Matthew felt his eyebrow twitch as he looked at the wreck of their lab, not that it mattered much anymore – they'd have to leave it all behind now.

"Time for some plotting." He confirmed, feeling the dull ache of horror that had been resolutely lingering fall away in the face of taking action, the jittery feeling seeming less like a loss of control and more like nervous energy. "Send out the birds, we'll need to know what happening at the docks…and the college." He added after a moment of hesitation.

"Bluebottles, you mean." Alfred provided.

"Bluebottles?"

"Side project." Alfred chirped, digging through the shattered remains of tools and machinery, pulling out two extremely small clockwork insects, the metal a dull blue in colour.

"They're miniscule!" Matthew took the proffered mechanism, examining it through the magnifying lens on his work goggles, which had been resting around his neck only moments before.

"Kind of the point bro." Alfred chuckled, throwing the bluebottle he held into the air, kick starting the tiny cogs, allowing it to silently dart through the air.

"Send one to the docks so we can assess escape options, ideally we need to find a guild trader, and soon." Alfred nodded, grabbing the insect out of the air, setting it onto a brass plate. It slotted in neatly and Alfred turned the small plate over, revealing a compass and various other dials that Matthew could only guess the function of. A few quick flicks had Alfred throwing it into the air again, batting it with his hand; it darted up and sped out through the labs mail system.

"What was that all about?" Matthew enquired, completely perplexed.

"It needed directions." Alfred shrugged as if this was somehow normal. Matthew frowned at his nonchalance, messengers usually operated off the great clocks power source, through the time-streams; they needed instructions, not directions.

"Why?" Alfred's brow furrowed for a moment before shooting up once more.

"Oh, right! It doesn't use the clocks." Matthew knew that his eyebrows had disappeared into his fringe in shock.

"What does it use then?" The first clue to Alfred's discomfort was his refusal to meet Matthew's eyes, he felt guilty about something. The mumbling wasn't helping to set Matthew's mind at rest either. Alfred had always been a useless liar when it came down to work.

"What was that Al?"

"I said," His brother spoke sheepishly, "Us."

"Us?" Matthew questioned, confusion written plain on his face.

"Yeah, that's why I set limits, it uses our force, but," He rushed, seeing the alarm registering on Matthew's face, "It doesn't take much at all, too small and I added temporary kinetic generators to reduce energy consumption." And, he added triumphantly, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on his face, "It can travel outside time-streams because it doesn't rely on the clocks power." Matthew exhaled slowly, the angry retort dying in his throat.

"And you didn't tell me about this sooner…because?" Alfred shuffled uncomfortably, looking genuinely guilty.

"I wanted to perfect it first, tested it out on myself to make sure it wouldn't be dangerous or draining."

"The week you slept fourteen hours a day?" Matthew asked softly in sympathetic understanding, he did strange, dangerous things when it came to his work and this…this was a major breakthrough. He'd need to study it, write up a paper on the methodology and more important to his mind, the theoretical mechanics behind it, possibly future applications, scaling concerns…

"Yeah, early prototype, I was messing with the settings."

"Fine, well, this ones connected to me, right?" He asked, holding up the exquisitely worked bluebottle.

"Mmmmhmmm, sure is Mattie." Alfred hummed, a shining pride in his eyes.

"Well," He demanded excitedly, "Hand it over, eh?" Alfred handed him the disc and Matthew studied it silently, eyes reverentially taking in all the intricacies, before clicking the insect into place, pausing to observe the contraption again. Silence enveloped him as he worked, testing and tweaking the small mechanism. Finally he pulled it from the disc, sending it into the air and up the tube, the same way its brethren had disappeared.

"Where'd you send it?" Alfred asked eagerly but without any anxiety in his tone.

"The college. I want to know what's happening there, do you never listen? I already said this! It'll be back soon to report." Alfred's smile seemed to wilt at the mention of the college prompting Matthew's attention to turn back to the unconscious man and his terrible purpose. "We need to strategize." The lab was tense with contemplative silence, the absence of the 'tick' of Alfred's clock making it markedly more sinister and foreboding.

"We've got to split up." Matthew was the first to speak, voice quiet and soft. Alfred had to strain to hear. "We're twins – they know we're always together."

"Except when we aren't." Alfred noted, a gleam in his eye, white teeth flashing.

"Except when we aren't." Matthew conceded with a grin, "But _they_ don't know that."

"Exactly."

"_Exactly."_

* * *

><p>Gilbert let out a wild shriek as the ship rocked violently, slamming up against the outer edge of the narrows, one wing firmly caught in a furious vortex of time and wind, argent forks of lightning striking against the metal of the framework. The other wing was keeping the ship airborne in the strong time-stream of the narrows. The ship would jerk aggressively, the small crew grabbing onto anything within reach to stop themselves from going overboard and Gilbert, abandoning sanity, would unleash a succession of maniacal laughs which always ended in him screaming "crazy ass bitch!" at the lone female steering the vessel. She stuck her tongue out in return, taking a hand off the wheel to wave it at him in an obscene non-verbal display. In doing so she would cause the ship to lurch once more, the starboard railing jutting madly out of the stream and into the elemental vortex, the ship tilting and rocking madly.<p>

They where traveling incredibly fast, two-thirds through the narrows and still alive. They'd be there by nightfall. Gilbert was on a high, adrenaline pulsing through his veins invigorating him. He wanted to laugh in time with his quickly pounding heartbeat…free. Free from questions and concerns and guilt. Every moment precious, any capable of being his last; the thought of dying in a fiery explosion didn't frighten him, it was a thrill, he wanted his death to be as awesome as his life, full of vitality and drama, not chained to some stupid fucking clock slowly falling in on himself as the life was sucked out of his very soul. Up here in the treacherous narrows he could forget all about such an ignoble death, all his fears left behind as he thundered though the time-stream, the crew all focused and alert to all small changes occurring around them. He loved dangerous time paths and had navigated many, the elements where no match for his awesome, he'd beat time itself if given a ship and the freedom to do so.

"Why, mon ami?" Francis groaned, gripping the railing as he slowly made his way over to the bow to join his friend. Gilbert noted with amusement that there was a decidedly green tinge to his usually clear complexion. Probably why he sounded so upset. "Why must we travel this infernal stream?"

"Time constraints," Gilbert laughed, "And because the awesome me said so." Francis groaned again, draping himself over the railings dramatically. Gilbert felt a rational, he thought, temptation building up inside him and had to sternly remind himself that kicking his friend over the railings would not, in fact, come under the heading of a harmless prank.

"You uncivilized horror, you are making this up! There is no need for us to rush." He sighed, golden hair whipping about his face as the ship rocked dangerously close to the vortex once more. "You and Elizaveta are determined to see me dead, oui?"

"Ja." Gilbert agreed amicably, "I know she does after your little stunt with Roddy." He cackled as the green tinge seemed to grow stronger and Francis looked ready to throw up, or possibly throw himself overboard if the worried looks he was casting in Elizaveta's direction were anything to go by.

"Sh-She knows about that?" Gilbert cracked up again, gripping the railings to prevent himself from rolling around the deck. "Oh do not tease me about such important things! Really though Gilbert, what is the rush?"

Gilbert shrugged, smile fading slightly, "We need to get there fast, my awesome intuition tells me so!" He perked up as the ship lunged port side. "HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU HOW AWESOMELY IN LOVE I AM WITH ELIZAVETA?" He screamed, scarlet eyes dancing with wicked delight.

"Antonio, mon ami," Francis muttered lowly, expression serious, "you are trying to distract him, non? He is… worried." Gilbert glanced away from his quickly escalating contest of creepy leering with Elizaveta to Francis.

"To be expected." He replied shortly, hoping that Francis would just take the hint and drop it.

"Oui, oui, to be expected but… _I _am worried."

"As am I Franny-pants but, well, next job will be distracting enough – I'll make sure of it, a delivery to Bermuda perhaps. And a little _distraction_ for all of us would be welcomed." Francis who looked suitably ill at the mention of Bermuda raised an eyebrow, lecherous smile spreading over his face, eyes sparkling malevolently.

"Hon hon hon, new blood Gilbert?"

"Ja. Maybe. There is nothing as distracting as a little change, some poor unsuspecting innocent to mess with, someone that might even catch Ludwig's interest." Gilbert realized his mistake as soon as he spoke Ludwig's name.

"I have not seen Ludwig all day Gilbert."

"He's concentrating, the narrows are more turbulent than usual… you know how seriously he takes everything." Gilbert could hear the tightness of his voice but Francis nodded eventually, though the gesture was somewhat hesitant.

"Antonio was talking about _her_ again, Gilbert." Gilbert growled, eyes dark and bloody matching the sun as it sank to the horizon. "I do not think he will _do_ anything ami but give him some time, he needs a little space right now, he still feels responsible."

"I see you don't have that problem Francis." Sniggered Gilbert but the mocking smile on his face did not reach his eyes. It was low of him to level such accusations at his friend but he wanted to be left alone to enjoy the storm raging around the narrows.

"Now, Gilbert, be fair, ami! Roderich was looking after him; there was nothing to be done! The situation with Lovino was regretful but Roderich? What should I have done? What _could _I have done?" He shook his head regretfully.

"Would you take their place if you could?" Francis looked thoughtfully off into the vortex, not registering the war beyond the narrows. A frown crossed his face and he sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and looking up at his friend sideways.

"Non, I do not think I would have the courage or selflessness required." The raw honesty of his answer made Gilbert shiver and look away, not wanting to meet the sorrowful and hauntingly resigned eyes.

"Totally un-awesome Francis." Gilbert tersely muttered, back to his friend. He walked off towards the starboard railing, plunging into the storm. Francis' eyes trailed him until he was out of sight, hidden by the argent light of the ever-increasing storms.

* * *

><p>They where only hours away from their destination, Arthur having insisted on taking his personal flagship due to it being small, light and speedy. He had received a message earlier in the flight informing him of an <em>unfortunate<em> development. A ghost, back from the dead, that his crew were expected to handle. Two sets of dangerous people moving in opposite directions and he was being asked to quickly and efficiently deal with them both. It would likely take months.

"Why so down?" An irritatingly cheerful voice cut in. Arthur threw a glare in his brother's direction. Of course if Arthur was despondent this sadistic git would be delighted.

"I'm going to be stuck with you for months, seems like reason enough."

"Pfft." Fionn punched him on the shoulder, more roughly than was strictly necessary. "You're so tense, Artie! Wait till we land though, I'll take care of that." Arthur raised overlarge eyebrows, wandering at the intent of his brother's comment but no reply was forthcoming.

"Well what did you mean by that you stupid arse?"

"Hey! That's no way to speak to your older brother, you never give me any respect." Arthur snorted contemptuously.

"You don't deserve any respect."

"I resent that. Count yourself lucky I can't be arsed beating you into unrecognizable pulp."

"What is this about?" Fionn paused in the process of rummaging through his dark overcoat, yelping as he removed his hand from its pocket, a look of panic crossing his face. He stood stock still for a minute before shrugging and relaxing once more.

"I'm bored."

"Do your work and you won't be."

"I'm a fucking physician, no one's sick, what am I supposed _to do_ exactly?" His look suggested that if Arthur pressed the point he'd make sure to provide himself with some work at the expense of Arthur's health.

"I don't care, find something. As you noted earlier, we will _be there soon_. God, older than me? You're such a child."

"He is." Affirmed the quiet voice of Bryn. He seemed to have taken more after Arthur; small, slight and fair, an almost perpetually serious expression on his face. Fionn and Donald in contrast where taller and broader, they had that easy strength that Arthur always felt he lacked and twin idiotic smirks almost permanently adorning their faces. Fionn was dark haired and Donald red but their skin was a similar shade of translucent white. Arthur often made fun of them for this, they burned at the slightest hint of a summer day and Arthur found their angry, peeling skin hilarious. At least _he_ didn't look like a diseased tomato at the first ray of sunlight.

"Hey squirt, don't you start siding with this bastar-" Fionn stopped mid-sentence, pupils widening as shivers racked his body, "Shit-" He thickly spoke before keeling over backwards, slamming into the deck of the ship with an almighty thud. Laughter roared out in the distance from where Donald had been working moments before; figured.

Arthur and Bryn exchanged glances, Bryn tilting his head in recognition of the silent exchange.

"Bloody idiot anesthetized himself, didn't he?" Arthur asked, not really expecting an answer from his uncommunicative first mate and not receiving any aside from half a shrug.

"We're lucky," Donald shouted, leaning over the side of the crow's nest on his way towards one of the funnels.

"Lucky how, exactly? Our physician has just knocked himself out for the remainder of our journey. Wanker probably did it on purpose." Donald scratched at his head with the spanner he held in his hand.

"Lucky because he was planning on poisoning our dinner."

"He WHAT?" Roared Arthur, "Bloody lunatic, why the hell would he do that?"

"Answered that for yourself, he's a bastarding lunatic right enough. And he was bored."

Arthur looked suspiciously at his chief engineer, "And how do you know this?"

"He told me."

"Of course he did," Arthur muttered. "And you where going to tell me this…when?" His brother looked genuinely confused at this.

"Why would I tell you?"

"You little bugger!"

"I'm larger than you."

"Oh I am so sorry, you great big bugger!"

"Aye, better."

God he needed a new crew, though his fellow recovery agents weren't much better. One of them seemed sensible enough, quiet and orderly until it came to taking prisoners, he or she, Arthur couldn't tell which, was the assassin of the group, a former member of the International Guild of Assassins and was downright terrifying when in action, an intense unspoken bloodlust registering with every hit.

Kathleen was generally a violent and brash young lady who was not someone that Arthur liked to cross, though he did often, much to Donald's great amusement. She was - despite the unlikelihood, which, he considered, was the point - a spy. She'd most likely leave when their mission was underway, sporadically returning with intelligence and suggestions, alerting them to anything that could possibly cause complications and checking in with local embassies and governments. Arthur didn't fully trust her, she was very close to Donald and his perchance for rebellion seemed to delight her. He could not decide whether she was dangerous for her potential to incriminate him or join him in his glorious revolution if it ever came to that.

Ralph was too laidback, boisterous and a major irritant to Arthur. He insisted on taking his pet…_thing_ everywhere with him and liked to talk almost constantly, calling Arthur 'mate' like he wasn't his bloody boss, he was completely irreverent. He wasn't great at taking instruction if he didn't agree with it and had, in the past, ignored explicit commands. He was good at what he did though and out of their group he had the greatest strength and physical presence, barring Fionn, who would occasionally traipse along, his dark doctors coat lined with various poisons and instruments of torture, which he insisted were just for 'the look of the thing'.

The young girl that had recently joined them was a constant source of pain to Arthur; dark and beautiful, he had tried, in his rather awkward manner, to ask her out. She had said yes, giggling maddeningly and Arthur got the distinct impression he was being laughed _at_. Their date had gone well though and Arthur had…_laid his claim_ but she had laughed it off, shrugging and telling him she didn't want to 'become involved' before promptly involving herself with last member of his crew, a man of little to no words of Arabic descent.

Was that it? He ran through his mental list again. Yes, that seemed about right. They would be collected in North America. It had been a while since he had worked with them; his last recovery agents had been from the North of Europe one and all and had been a greater chore to work with than his usual headaches.

Bryn was still standing beside him, "Take that idiot to his room," He commanded the shorter male, "And bloody well make sure to hit his head off all the stairs on the way down."

"Noted." Was all that Bryn said before roughly catching his taller brothers ankles and dragging him across the deck with admirable solemnity.

* * *

><p>It doesn't really feel right but work is kind of keeping me away from writing much and I am trying to snatch time on my lunch break, in the bath on days off etc. I'm kind of washed out from it all. I didn't like the last section, I was hoping that I could introduce the crew slowly but…well I already have the next chapter planned out so it made more sense to have Arthur musing over things to give a little background. Sorry this is so fillerish, there are a couple of hints to the way things work and a couple of future charactersevents maybe. I kind of had to have them converging in NA as well but in the next chapter there will be some introductions/meetings.

I might eventually get round to doing some revision on this one –is not happy- but it could take a while.

Reviews and thoughts would be much appreciated.


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